


Who Do You Trust

by oichefolaireamh



Series: saf fic [2]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Concussions, He'll be fine though, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oichefolaireamh/pseuds/oichefolaireamh
Summary: Owen's light teasing tone is at odds with the focused look on his face, the determination with which he checks the side mirrors for the cars supposedly chasing them.-A back and forth is developing.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Series: saf fic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048774
Kudos: 21





	Who Do You Trust

Curt blinks himself awake in the back of a Ford Galaxie, face down and in quite a lot of pain. There's a distant rumbling that, the longer he stays awake, becomes closer and closer until he realizes it's just the sound of the car running. There's a moment of weird peace before the panic sets in- he's pretty sure his car doesn't sound like this, he feels sick to his stomach from pain (the nausea always sets in and goes away quickly for him, so it must have been around an hour ago that he was injured), and being in the back seat of a moving car means that somebody is driving him around.

_... Somebody is driving him around._

Curt cracks an eye open and looks at the rearview mirror. Owen is already looking back at him.

"Do you know you breathe differently when you're asleep?"

Curt furrows his eyebrows and starts to force himself up, but-

 _"Stay down, Mega,"_ Owen demands. "People are tailing us, and I'd really like them to not know you're in the backseat yet. Your gun is in your coat, on the floor. Take it out and make sure it's loaded. Whenever I stop this car, there's going to be a shootout, and I need you to play backup."

Curt is too nauseous to argue, instead reaching down to the floor and routinely checking his gun. "Why?"

Owen looks at him in the rearview mirror again. "You hit your head hard, didn't you? I show up late to a joint mission once-"

"Twice," Curt corrects.

"Twice, thank you-"

"This is our third mission together."

"Yes, yes. I show up late and you forget the mission before I get here?" The car turns abruptly, jostling Curt and sending a spike of pain through his head. Owen tuts. "I have to say I'm disappointed."

"Blow me," Curt replies. "I think I have a concussion. Did somebody knock me out?" He cocks his gun and slides himself slowly onto the floor of the car- which isn't by any stretch of the word comfortable- so that he can sit up and still remain hidden from the view of the back window.

"I should hope so. You were facedown in an alley when I found you." Owen's light teasing tone is at odds with the focused look on his face, the determination with which he checks the side mirrors for the cars supposedly chasing them. "Unless you've started taking naps on the job. We're here." The car stops short, and Curt has to throw his arm up to catch himself on the back of the front seat.

Owen jumps out of the car and opens a back door to use as a shield, and Curt spins around to face the back, keeping both sides of the car in his field of vision. A gunshot triggers another stab of pain, like a knife jerking up into the base of his skull, and Curt closes his eyes to block out the light.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Owen calls, and Curt jerks awake having lost a moment of time, seeing things wobble and float in his vision. "Come on, stay awake, we're not out of the fire yet."

Curt nods woozily and shuffles closer to the open door. "Y'should probably take my gun. I think'm not gonna be much help like this."

Owen looks at him and squints. "You're probably right. Keep hold of the gun, though." He ducks down behind the door and a loud bang sounds, a bullet skidding along the ground beside him. "Can't leave you defenseless," he says with a smile when he stands back up.

Curt looks up at him, watches him systematically take out the people chasing them. "I wouldn't be defenseless," he says. "You're here."

He means it innocently. It's the truth- the two are partners, after all. Partners have each others' backs. Curt would do the same for Owen if the situations were reversed- at least, he _feels_ like he would, and that's close enough. The meaning of the words is exactly as they seem, face value sentiment. Curt is, at the moment, being defended by Owen.

Owen freezes, squeezes the trigger too early on his next shot and takes out the headlight on the car. He ducks down behind the door and Curt can hear a sharp breath from behind it, then a fumbling with the gun, and then a sharp curse.

"On second thought, I believe I do need your gun. Mine's jammed." Curt nods and tries to subtly drop it out of the door for Owen to take.

"I'll fix it later," He says, softly. "Shoot the dudes who're tryin' to kill us."


End file.
